Closer
by Square-Peas
Summary: HEY! I reformatted!Draco Malfoy life is twisted with lies. His own father is a loyal servant of Lord Voldemort and Draco is sure that he feels nothing. This alone makes life more difficult for him as he's not completely loyal to the Dark Lord himself...
1. Default Chapter

I decided to write a really, really scarily depressing story. No worries, the text family friendly. But the concepts... hmm... Disclaimer- I guess I'm supposed to put this... I own nothing. Dont sue plz I cant afford it hehehe  
  
Closer  
  
Draco picked up the knife because he had a made a decision. It had taken him quite a while to reach this decision because he had been through so much pain in his life he didn't want to suffer more, and this would involve a lot of pain. But then he decided with his twisted reasoning that it would only make him stronger and it's not like it could get any worse anyway.  
  
He was positive he would go through with it this time. He actually got to the point where the blade nearly touched his skin before he jerked away. Next time it will be closer. He told himself.  
Next time I'll do it.  
  
He went to school the next day the same way he normally did, like nothing was different, so no one would know that he had gotten closer, so much closer than before.  
  
Not that anybody cared, because it seemed like nobody cared anymore.  
  
And Harry just walked around the same old way and he was just candid and approachable like always and everyone worshipped him like always and he'd secretly tell his friends about his scar hurting and nightmares like always.  
  
He thinks he has problems.  
  
Draco knew something Harry didn't.  
Draco knew that while Harry prophesized about Voldemort coming back he knew because he had seen his horrible snakelike face in the fire and his father's features twisting into little creases while he spoke in a an oily voice and promised horrific things to his Master, his Master that he loved more than his own son.  
  
Harry thinks he has problems. He's kidding himself.  
  
Or at least that's what he thought until that evening.  
A whispering, rasping voice. Lucius.  
  
Draco saw that repulsive face in the fire and quickly left the room. But he still caught a snatch of the conversation as he walked down the hall towards his room.  
  
Lucius, I've been probing Potter's mind for some time now.  
  
He stopped and slowly walked back to the door, but didn't open it, just listened; waiting, expectant.  
  
His resistance is becoming weaker. Dumbledore's attempts at teaching him Occlumancy have failed. Soon I will be able to control his mind completely and lead him to do things I never thought possible.  
  
"Yes, my lord, of course, my lord." Draco heard his father's voice and cringed.  
  
Your son is repulsed by me.  
  
"No, my lord!"  
  
You bumbling fool! Even an idiot like you should be able to tell he abhors the sight of me! He leaves the room every time my face appears!"  
  
"But, my lord..."  
  
Something silenced Lucius, for he stopped speaking and simply listened to the whispered words from Voldemort. Draco strained to hear but it was as though he was encased in glass- he heard nothing.  
But he had heard what he needed to hear.  
  
He silently debated whether or not to tell Harry. It's not like he would listen to him, but if he let it slip somehow... a note "accidentally" left near the Griffindor common room...  
  
Suddenly the door swung open with such force that he fell forward and hit the floor so hard he saw stars. Dizzily he tried to stand or focus is eyes on something, but everything was sort of blurry.  
  
Traitor.  
  
A whispered word.  
" Master, he's a child... he can change..."  
  
Yes, true, and since he is my chosen, I can't exactly kill him...  
  
Draco vaguely wondered if his father tried to save him because he loved him or because he would benefit from it. He knew the answer and hated it for all of its accuracy. Benefit.  
  
However...  
  
Voldemort's face twisted into a cruel, diabolical smile.  
  
If he continues with his self- destructive behavior...  
  
"Self destructive behavior?" Lucius queried him.  
  
Came pretty close today, didn't you, Draco?  
  
He suddenly realized Voldemort actually knew. Voldemort knew and his own father didn't.  
  
He turned away form his father's infuriated gaze and looked the evil sorceror in the eyes. "Yes, and I will get closer still."  
  
Lucius, you really should be more aware of your son. He is, after all, your flesh and blood.  
  
Draco saw something in his father's eyes that he had never seen before. Like he was trying to tell Draco something without saying it or thinking it.  
  
You do love him, don't you?  
  
Instantly the look in Lucius's eyes was gone and he whispered "No."  
  
I suppose you meant it when you said you loved nothing at hurt none...Tomorrow, Lucius.  
  
"Yes, my lord."  
  
Then he nodded at Draco and Voldemort and left the room, his black robes billowing behind him as he stepped. 


	2. Love Nothing

Hey guess wut? Get ready for a major plot twist. More Draco angst. Not sure  
if the rating's right, it could change, dunno exactly.  
Disclaimer- Hey guess what? No, guess... No really... I own nothing. No  
Draco, no Lucius, no Harry, nobody. But i DO own this story. There is  
hope!!  
  
Love Nothing  
  
I hate him.  
  
That was really all that was going through Draco's mind, like an annoying  
little song that latched on to his train of thought and would let go...  
  
I hate him I hate him I hate him...  
  
ike thinking would somehow wreak revenge.  
  
And the Dark Lord had planted a little seed in his mind, a little note that kept growing and growing.  
  
He really can't feel.  
Well. I'm his son, maybe I can't either.  
  
At this he picked up the knife and actually sliced if smoothly across the skin of his arm.  
Instantly he felt the sharp pain of being cut. Then it kind of numbed, shock maybe. Quickly he picked up an old sock and wrapped it around his arm, tightening it so it would serve as a sort of tourniquet.  
  
Strange, disturbing thoughts creeped through his mind. \  
  
He liked the pain.  
I like it, take shelter in it. My haven. I can feel, I'm not numb, I'm not my father. I will never be my father. Never. Never because if I became like his father all the little castles in my mind would collapse and leave me open and unprotected.  
  
And he smiled because he hated things to be simple and this was becoming anything but simple.  
  
He went to school the next day happy because he wasn't closer, he WAS.  
  
People started to notice the difference.  
  
"Good mood, today, Draco?" "Why ya so happy, kill somebody lately?" "Ooh, Prince of Darkness coming into the light?"  
  
No matter how biting their comments were, he just smiled or replied with something sarcastic or just "Yeah, sure, whatever" because it was just as meaningless as everything they were saying.  
  
Until Harry Potter.  
  
Honestly. He just knows how to ruin everything, doesn't he?  
  
"Draco."  
  
He could have just kept walking. He could have avoided those peircing green eyes, pretend he hadn't heard.  
He didn't.  
  
"Draco, what happened to your arm?"  
  
Draco glanced down at it. He instantly realized that his robe sleeve had been pushed up, folds of fabric pinned up by the books in his arms.  
  
Traitorous sleeve. He thought, and instantly chuckled to himself, the thought was really juvenile.  
  
"Accident at home. Shove off, will you, Potter? Don't you have some Mudbloods to go linger with?" he replied flippantly.  
"Fine. I'm not asking next time."  
  
Next time. There will be a next time, and a time after that...  
***************************************************************  
Lucius's POV  
  
Quickly he strode down the street, glancing at storefronts from time to time, searching for something...  
  
Suddenly a voice greeted him heartily, "Lucius, how nice to see you again..." "No time, Ptolensky, no time..." "Surely you have time for an old friend..." 'I most assuredly do not, another time, another time..."  
  
He could feel the idiot's eyes suspiciously following him down the road. After a time he glanced back and he was gone.  
  
He suddenly happened upon a tiny little brick building. Tiny, quaint, antiquated, and to the unobservant eye, deserted. But Lucius's eyes were indeed, very observant, he saw the tiny scrap of faded purple cloth over the door, he knew the signs...  
  
He casually walked over and tapped the doorknob, whispering Aviedienta! The door opened, just a crack. When he was sure no one was looking, he walked in.  
  
The ancient floorboards creaked under his feet. Spider webs were laced over everything, and a musty smell permeated the room. He walked over to a seemingly random floorboard and whispered Aviedienta! once again and it creaked open to reveal a secret passageway.  
  
He crawled through a short tunnel until he reached a small room. A number of black-robed figures were sitting around a rectangular wooden table. He sat into a vacant chair and said, "I have some more information you may find useful."  
  
Then he focused his attention on a figure sitting at the head of the table. He leaned forward and said,  
  
"Oh, and Lupin? You may want to strengthen your protection spells around here, they're getting a little rusty." 


	3. Silence

OK quick lemme say- I own nothing- so u can get back to more Draco angst... O yeah lets enjoy his spiral into madness!!! Sorry I just love making my characters go crazy... Alyssa likes to make them crazy... Why does Alyssa find this so enjoyable? (twitch twitch) Oh geez there were so many parts i wanted to put colorful language but I'm too much of a goody-goody lol  
  
Silence  
  
Everything's just a sad little song... never changes, never different never new... It's all the same... always...  
  
"Well this sucks. Am I just gonna wallow in self pity?"  
  
Yes, Draco, that's what you're doing right now. Pull yourself out of it or you'll never stop. I know...  
  
Draco abruptly snapped out of his daydream and bolted upright.  
  
He was in the middle of History. And instead of the drawling monotone of Professor Binns, he heard that soft rasping voice...  
A very familiar rasping voice...  
  
I'm going crazy, he thought.  
  
The thought didn't worry him, it actually kind of soothed him. It's got a label. Insanity. It's called something and I'm not the only one going through it...  
  
His thoughts were becoming as meaningless as Professor Binns words.  
  
What is wrong with me? Honestly.  
He quickly shook his head and tried to block out Professor Binns's words.  
  
God, please, make it stop, please, GOD!!  
  
The last thought he yelled aloud.  
  
The whole class swiveled around in their chairs to face the quivering, twitching Draco. Spasms shot up his legs, and beads of sweat covered his entire body.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, do you have something to share with the class?"  
  
"Um, I need to see Madam Pomfrey," he said quickly.  
  
"Indeed," said Binns, looking at him oddly.  
He thinks I'm crazy... They all do... everything is... I am...  
I sure wish I was crazy...  
  
He walked briskly down the hall. He tried to regain his arrogance, his flamboyance, but something was seriously amiss. Anyone could tell.  
  
You're scared.  
  
He walked faster, and put his hands over his ears. He didn't want to go insane, his life was insane his very being was laced with insanity, and there was nothing he wanted less, nothing that would tie his life in knots. He hated things to be simple, but he hated complication, which was a complication in itself... did he hate it or enjoy it? What the heck was wrong with him?  
  
Draco, you're not insane. Now stop thinking, it's too hard for me to follow your train of thought. I never knew the 16-year- old mind could be so complicated.  
  
"Good God, I am insane." He whispered to himself. A second year gave him an incredulous look as she brushed past him.  
  
Malfoy, am I going to have to take over your mind entirely? Do you know what that's like?  
  
Dark shadows... angry, screaming voices... silence stop silence no silence.... flames... blood... screams of terror... pain, O GOD THE PAIN ... searing, burning, enveloping, maddening...  
  
"STOP!!"  
  
He yelled this in the middle of the hall, surrounded by completely normal, sane people, just starting to come into blurry focus. They stared at him... I HATE STARES... DIE...  
  
Malfoy reached into his robes and pulled out his wand... Then Silence...  
  
Malfoy collapsed on the floor. His breaths became short, ragged.  
  
I hate silence. Silence...  
  
"Stop, leave! GO BACK TO-"  
  
Malfoy BE QUIET!!"  
  
And he was. Silence. 


	4. Impassive

Impassive  
  
He didn't speak, he just listened, listened to all the lies and poison Voldemort inflicted upon his ears and mind.  
  
He listened because it was as if he had forgotten how to do anything else.  
  
People stared at him in the halls. He/Voldemort hated, despised the stares, but did nothing because he/Voldemort forbade it.  
  
He avoided the touch of all people because Voldemort/he didn't want to be touched my human flesh contaminated with love, such a horrid, abominable thing. Love.  
  
He shuddered inwardly.  
  
He walked as though in a daze, expressionless, emotionless. If anyone noticed a difference, they didn't speak up. People would rather ignore something than try to explain it.  
  
He couldn't separate his own thoughts from Voldemort's. Any emotion or idea could go either way. He was inwardly resisting, but it was getting so hard, everything is so hard, why cant I just take the easy way for once...  
  
The inward rebellion was unnoticed by everyone, he was left to fight alone.  
  
Impassive.  
  
It was time for McGonagall's class. He simply walked in and took a seat, silent, detached.  
  
He hated everything.  
  
McGonagall asked him the pointless questions, he answered just as pointlessly, effortlessly. Surprised, she asked him more,  
  
"And how would I go about doing this?"  
  
"What would I do if I wished for it to be blue?"  
  
"Why-"  
  
Then, he just snapped.  
  
"WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME ALL THIS?" he screamed. "Why don't you ask that Mudblood Granger?"  
  
He was about to add more, but he her eyes were glittering dangerously. He understood the signs and lapsed into silence, hatred written on his every feature. He was sick of it, of Voldemort whispering kill, burn, and her incessant questions and the staring students...  
  
I HATE STARES...  
  
He picked up his wand.  
  
Go ahead, Draco. Act... do it...  
  
"NO!!!!" he bellowed.  
  
End the staring forever...  
  
"Get out of my head!!!!!"  
  
"We are one, Draco, you won't escape!!"  
  
The entire class is silent, incredulous.  
  
Draco. was like a wraith, unnoticed, until his thoughts became actions, and words.  
  
He laughs, loudly, cruelly, diabolically. As do I, because it isn't me anymore. IT'S US. 


	5. Falling Towers

Author's note- OK this chapter almost made cry at the end *tear R&R *sniff  
please  
  
Falling Towers  
  
Lucius paced around Dumbledore's office. Draco was in a corner, in a chair.  
Silent, detached, watching...  
  
Nervously he cracked his knuckles as he regarded Dumbledore with an anxious  
countenance.  
  
"Draco, could you excuse us for a moment?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly, but  
with determination.  
  
He simply got up and walked out. Before he exited, his eyes met his  
fathers. Lucius started in shock and disbelief.  
  
Those aren't his eyes.  
  
Quickly he turned to face Dumbledore as the door creaked silently shut. The  
Phoenix, Fawkes, was looking disheveled and downcast. The rest of his  
office looked, neat and undisturbed, yet cozy.  
  
"Lucius."  
  
Nervously he stared at the floor. Those eyes always made him feel  
uncomfortable.  
  
"He's been contacting you, hasn't he?  
  
Fixedly staring at the floor, he tried to lie and found his efforts futile.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"In that case..."  
  
Dumbledore twirled a quill through his fingers, deep in thought.  
  
Lucius simply waited, patiently, although he had a feeling he knew what  
Albus was about to say.  
  
"I think that Harry is still in danger of having his mind probed by  
Voldemort."  
  
Lucius froze in complete and utter disbelief.  
  
"You're still concerned about that little pet Harry when..." he began  
angrily, his eyes sparking with hatred.  
  
"Lucius." Dumbledore said steadily. "Let's not say something we'll regret."  
  
Lucius decided to stay in the embers until his anger died down. He simply  
glowered and bit his lip as he let Dumbledore continue.  
  
"As I was saying, I think that Dumbledore will use Draco to get into Harry's mind. You see, it is much easier if he can get close to the person  
whose mind he wishes to control. However..."  
  
At this point Dumbledore stopped.  
  
Lucius waited, and waited...  
  
"Albus, what do you wish to say?"  
  
He stared at Lucius, a pained look on his face.  
  
"Once he has control of Harry... he will have no use for Draco..."  
  
Lucius motioned with his hand for him to stop. He knew exactly what that  
meant.  
**********************************  
  
Draco was listening intently outside the door. He stared at his hands as he  
thought.  
  
He's going to kill me... he thought to himself.  
  
It filled him with icy cold, horrible fear.  
  
I don't want to die, don't want to die...  
  
And yet he could feel the serpent-like thoughts of Voldemort twisting  
through his mind.  
  
Don't listen to them... They don't know...  
  
He was so scared.  
  
Draco...  
  
Silently he ran, swiftly through the passageways out of the school,  
Voldemort's voice echoing throughout him...  
  
You can't run...Can't run... Can't escape...  
  
He broke down the facade he had built his entire life as he heard the  
footsteps of his father and Dumbledore walking towards him.  
  
He did something he'd never done in his entire life.  
  
Sitting down on the ground, leaning against the building, Draco pulled his  
knees up to his chest and cried. 


	6. Caged

Caged  
  
Draco sat on his bed. His father had locked him in his room, like an animal that needed to be contained. I'm your son.  
  
He stared at the purple curtains on his windows. He can hear that same soft voice in the back of his thoughts. Well. It appears he truly loves you none. But then, did anyone ever love you? We know some spells to get past all the enchantments...  
  
He feels every muscle in his body tense to walk towards the door. No. I am myself, not you. He's angry, infuriated, really. Angrily he resists and reaches under his bed-  
  
-no, you fool!!-  
  
The knife.  
  
He's not afraid anymore... the numbness disappears and he feels... then feelings become words he can identify and he labels the emotions... anger... pain... hatred- -All of it was clear, sharp, like the cuts and lacerations he inflicted upon his arms, his legs.  
  
He could hear Voldemort ranting in his ears, his thoughts, and emotions. But he was secretly pleased, the pain he was causing himself was his own, not something Voldemort forced him to do.  
  
He stopped suddenly, face red and eyes dry. He wasn't crying. This pain was nothing new, it enveloped his entire being every moment with Voldemort in his mind. He stopped because something suddenly made him calm, still...  
  
I warned you.  
  
He knew what came next. Bracing himself, he closed his eyes and tightened the sinews in his legs, feeling the fear spreading over him in waves. He leaned against the bed, sitting on the floor, waiting,  
  
"Go ahead, make my day," he said, mainly because it was so stupid and it would just make him angrier...  
************************* Lucius's POV  
  
Lucius walked. Quickly, anxiously, each step hollow on the wooden floor. He had been downstairs and heard a yell, terrible and bloodcurdling. It had greatly unnerved him, although he had a faint idea what it could be.  
  
He burst into the room, slamming the door into the wall. He sees his son, covered in lacerations, angry, still fighting. His body was covered in blood and his eyes were full pain, but he was angry, which meant he hadn't given up yet. Good for you, Draco...  
  
Quickly he guarded his thoughts again, realizing he might have blown his cover foolishly. This was a time he was thankful that he was a skilled Occulamencist; he could feel Voldemort probing his mind again...  
  
"Do you love me."  
  
It was really more of a statement than a question. Lucius didn't know what to answer. He knew perfectly well what would happen if he answered what he felt, yes he did. But what if...  
  
The door slams open, leaving a huge cavity in the wall from the doorknob. It's as sudden as that, no time to react or think...  
  
It's morning, bright, overly cheerful. Contrived, like a child's picture. Lucius is angry at the day for being so cheerful and completely blind to his irrationality.  
  
He sits across from Draco, dodging Dumbledore's piercing gaze. Draco simply stares into space, all the anger gone from his eyes, hollow,  
  
Impassive.  
  
He wonders what will happen. Absentmindedly, vaguely just wondering for no particular reason. He's so weary of thinking, of trying to connect images to words and sound to thoughts he just decided to listen to Dumbledore's empty words.  
  
"I understand this has been hard for you..."  
  
No you don't...  
  
"You have to understand it's not over, Though Voldemort no longer possesses your son, he is still out there... may... traces of himself... listen...  
  
Lucius stopped listening. 


	7. Dragon

Dragon

I don't know what I'm doing. 

I've forgotten what it's like to have no second voice in my head, to not have to constantly fight to keep my sanity.

I feel empty now, like no movement I make is really my doing, it's just happening, against my will...

Enough to make me start fighting again, or not, I don't think I'll ever be able to fight again.

They want me to return to school.

It's not my decision, I told them. Do what you wish. 

You have free will now, they say, but really I don't.

He stands still. Trying to wake up from the stupor he found himself in, a daze of detached countenance, silently just moving from one day to the next, sand in an hourglass.

He's changed, everyone at school sees, but then again, he hadn't been himself for about 2 months. They just avoid him, and move along in their everyday lives like he doesn't exist. Like a herd of animals, they leave the weak behind, afraid of slowing down and looking around.

He hates them, passionately, but keeps it to himself.

Suddenly Harry is standing next to him, staring.

He looks up, acknowledging his presence.

"I know what it's like."

He simply gazes back. 

"Yeah." He replies.

"You don't believe me."

He gives him an icy cold look.

"Whatever you think you know, Potter, you don't."

"You'd be surprised."

"Most likely, I wouldn't be."

Potter looks at him. He believed him. Then he replied with the unthinkable;

"I know what it's like to be possessed by Voldemort."

Icy cold shock. Quickly he grabbed Harry and pulled him into an empty corridor, lit by dim, flickering torches.

He's silent for a while. Then he says

"Weren't kidding, were you, Harry?"

He doesn't reply to this. Instead he begins,

"You keep fighting, and when it's all over, you're just hollow, lost. Don't know what to do, you halfway feel like it's not over yet."

"Yeah." Was all he said. 

"Well guess what, Draco. It's not."

                                                ******************************

            He sits on the grass, near the Forbidden Forest. It's way past curfew, if someone caught him he'd be in trouble, but he's not worrying about that.

He thinks about his namesake. Draco, the Dragon. Protector of treasures, guardian.

Fighter.

Hera, queen of the gods, chose him to protect the golden apples. But Hercules came to steal them, a task he had to complete.

He slayed Draco, and stole the golden apples. By human terms, he lost.

But really, he won. Hera honored him by making him a constellation in the skies, to be seen and admired by all forever.

It was at this point that he decided to be an Auror. 

He thinks about what Harry said.

You don't get to a certain point, then stop. You keep fighting. That's what courage is, that's what, well, everything is. You come up swinging."

                                                   **************************

                                                ) *~~fin~~* (

Author's note- I hate to beg, but R&R, plz!!!


End file.
